A glimmer of hope in India’s space failure
The main satellite aboard was EOS-N1, also called Anvesha, built by India’s Defence Research and Development Organisation. This sophisticated hyperspectral imaging satellite could identify different materials on Earth’s surface using advanced imaging technology.
On January 12, 2026, India witnessed both heartbreak and hope in space. The Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO) launched its Polar Satellite Launch Vehicle (PSLV)-C62 from Sriharikota at 10:18 AM, carrying 16 satellites meant to circle Earth at 512 kilometers above us. But something went terribly wrong. The rocket tumbled out of control, and 15 satellites were lost. Yet amazingly, one small capsule not only survived but sent back precious data that scientists are now celebrating.
Let’s understand what happened that January 12th morning. The PSLV-C62 used the DL variant—a rocket configuration with two extended strap-on boosters for extra thrust. Standing 44.4 meters tall (about as high as a 15-story building) and weighing 289 tonnes at liftoff, this rocket was India’s trusted workhorse with an impressive track record of over 60 successful missions before this failure.
The rocket works in stages, like a multi-story building that sheds floors as it climbs higher. Understanding these stages helps us appreciate what went wrong.
The first stage uses solid fuel—a rubber-like substance called HTPB that, once ignited, burns continuously with enormous power to lift the rocket off the ground. Think of it like a massive firework that generates approximately 4,800 kilonewtons of thrust (enough force to lift about 490 cars). The two strap-on boosters attached to the rocket’s sides provide additional push during liftoff, each containing twelve tonnes of fuel and producing 703.5 kilonewtons of thrust.
The second stage switches to liquid fuel for better control and steering. It uses a Vikas engine that burns a combination of UDMH fuel and nitrogen tetroxide oxidiser, generating around 799 kilonewtons of thrust. Liquid engines are like car engines—you can control how much power they produce, unlike solid fuel which burns at a fixed rate once started.
The first two stages worked perfectly that morning, lifting the rocket through the atmosphere. But during the third stage—about nine minutes after launch—disaster struck.
The third stage (PS3) uses solid fuel that, once ignited, burns like a giant firework and cannot be stopped or controlled. This stage is supposed to push the rocket to near-orbital speed after leaving most of the atmosphere. But suddenly, the rocket started experiencing what engineers call “disturbances in roll rates”—essentially, it began tumbling and spinning when it should have been flying straight and stable. Imagine a spinning top that suddenly wobbles and loses balance. The rocket’s guidance system couldn’t fix itself, and instead of reaching space smoothly, it deviated from its planned trajectory.
The main satellite aboard was EOS-N1, also called Anvesha, built by India’s Defence Research and Development Organisation. This sophisticated hyperspectral imaging satellite could identify different materials on Earth’s surface using advanced imaging technology. It was designed to study crop health, water quality, mineral detection, and crucially, unmask military camouflage along India’s borders—making it an important national security asset. Alongside it were 15 smaller satellites from Nepal, the United Kingdom, Brazil, Thailand, France, Spain, and Indian startups. Together, they represented years of work and investments estimated between 200 to 250 million dollars.
When the rocket failed, altitude and speed readings dropped below required levels. Mission control watched helplessly as their carefully orchestrated mission spiraled out of control. All these satellites either burned up like meteors while falling through the atmosphere or never reached their intended orbit. For the teams who built them—scientists, engineers, and entrepreneurs—it was devastating. For Indian startups that lost payloads, the damage extended beyond immediate loss, potentially affecting investor confidence in India’s growing space sector.
But here’s where the story gets fascinating. Among these 16 payloads was something different—a football-sized capsule called KID (Kestrel Initial Technology Demonstrator). Unlike the other satellites, KID wasn’t meant to stay in space. It was designed by Orbital Paradigm, a Spanish startup from Madrid founded in 2023, specifically to test technology for returning safely from space.
Think of it like the difference between a regular airplane and a fighter jet built to withstand extreme conditions. Regular satellites are designed to work in the peaceful vacuum of space—no air, no friction, no weather. They’re optimized for that environment with delicate solar panels to collect sunlight, sensitive cameras and instruments, and lightweight structures to save launch costs. But KID was different. It was built as a re-entry capsule, designed specifically to survive the journey back to Earth—a journey that involves incredible heat and pressure.
While other satellites were designed to float peacefully in orbit for years, KID was built like a miniature spaceship that could survive the fiery journey back through Earth’s atmosphere. It had a special ablative heat shield—a protective layer that slowly burns away, carrying heat with it and protecting the capsule inside. It had a compact, reinforced structure. It had systems designed to work even under extreme acceleration and temperature.
When the rocket started tumbling violently, KID separated early—probably due to the intense shaking or an automatic safety trigger designed to protect the capsule. What happened next was remarkable and gives us a glimpse into what the capsule experienced.
The capsule switched on by itself and started transmitting data back to Earth. For over three minutes (190 seconds to be exact), it sent a continuous stream of information while experiencing forces that would crush most spacecraft. Those three minutes tell an incredible story.
First, the gravitational forces. KID endured accelerations 28 times stronger than what we feel on Earth—what scientists call “28 g’s.” To understand this, imagine if you weigh 50 kilograms normally. Under 28 g’s, you would suddenly feel like you weigh 1,400 kilograms—more than a small car. Your organs would be crushed. Every system in the capsule had to withstand this crushing force while continuing to function.
Then came the heat. When an object enters Earth’s atmosphere at high speed, it compresses the air in front of it. This compression generates tremendous heat through friction—not from rubbing against air molecules, but from the air itself being squeezed and heated. Temperatures exceeded 1,500 degrees Celsius outside the capsule—hot enough to melt steel, aluminum, and most metals we use daily. Yet KID’s heat shield protected it, slowly burning away layer by layer, designed exactly for this purpose.
Throughout this violent descent—spinning, heating, being crushed by g-forces—KID’s systems kept working. Its transmitter kept sending signals. Its sensors kept recording data. Its internal computer kept functioning. For 190 seconds, it gave scientists a real-time window into one of the most extreme environments humans can create.
Why did KID survive when others didn’t? The answer lies in its purpose and design. Regular satellites are like delicate instruments made for the vacuum of space, where there’s no air to burn them. They have solar panels, antennas, and sensitive equipment exposed to space. When they hit the atmosphere at high speed without proper protection, the air friction creates extreme temperatures, and they disintegrate. KID, however, had a special heat shield—a protective layer designed exactly for this fiery descent. Its structure was compact and reinforced, built to handle punishment.
The data KID sent back is like gold for scientists. It recorded exactly how hot it got (both inside and outside), how much force it experienced, and which systems kept working under stress. This information is rare because you can’t easily recreate such extreme conditions on Earth. Orbital Paradigm posted on social media: “We survived peak heat and peak g-load… We have internal temps.” This real-world test data will help improve future spacecraft designs, including those that might carry astronauts or return valuable cargo from space safely.
For ISRO, this failure—their second consecutive PSLV issue in just eight months—is a serious concern that demands thorough investigation. To understand why this is so troubling, you need to know PSLV’s history.
PSLV has been India’s space workhorse since 1993. It’s called the “Polar Satellite Launch Vehicle” because it specializes in placing satellites into polar orbits—orbits that pass over the North and South poles, allowing satellites to observe the entire Earth as the planet rotates beneath them. This rocket has been the backbone of India’s space program, launching satellites for dozens of countries and building India’s reputation as a reliable, affordable launch provider.
Before 2025, PSLV had an exceptional track record with a success rate of over 95%—exceptional by global standards. Space agencies and commercial companies worldwide knew that when they booked a PSLV launch, their satellite would almost certainly reach orbit.
But now, two failures in eight months, both involving the same third stage. The previous failure occurred in May 2025 with PSLV-C61, which also experienced problems in the third stage, showing chamber pressure drops that prevented the rocket from reaching orbital velocity. Two failures, eight months apart, both in the third stage—this isn’t coincidence anymore; it’s a pattern that requires answers.
The May 2025 failure showed chamber pressure drops—the solid fuel didn’t burn uniformly. Imagine a candle that doesn’t burn evenly—one side burns faster than the other, creating an unbalanced flame. In a rocket motor, this uneven burning creates pressure variations that reduce thrust and prevent the rocket from reaching the speed needed for orbit.
January 2026’s failure showed different symptoms—the rocket losing control and tumbling. This suggests the thrust vector control nozzle malfunctioned. The thrust vector control is the rocket’s steering mechanism, tilting the exhaust to point the rocket in the right direction. If this fails, it’s like driving a car with a stuck steering wheel—the vehicle has power but can’t be controlled. Or there could be structural issues causing asymmetric thrust, making the rocket spin uncontrollably.
Here’s what deeply worries experts: both rockets likely used third stages manufactured around the same time, possibly from similar production batches with components from the same suppliers. This raises serious questions. Could there be hidden manufacturing defects that the previous investigation missed? Did the fixes applied after May 2025 not address the root problem completely? Or worse, did investigators identify the wrong problem entirely?
After the May 2025 failure, ISRO announced a Failure Analysis Committee to investigate. By August 2025, they claimed to have identified the problem and implemented fixes. The space community breathed easier. But clearly, whatever fixes were applied weren’t sufficient. The fact that the May 2025 investigation report was still pending at the Prime Minister’s Office when PSLV-C62 launched raises troubling questions about whether launches should have proceeded at all.
ISRO has grounded PSLV missions until at least mid-February 2026 while investigations continue. Engineers will study what went wrong in the third stage to prevent future losses. The agency that successfully landed Chandrayaan-3 on the moon’s south pole and reached Mars orbit on the first attempt—making India the first nation to reach Mars on its first try, with a budget of just 74 million dollars (less than the Hollywood movie “Gravity”)—needs to identify and fix these recurring problems.
PSLV’s lifetime success rate has now dipped to 93.7%. While this is still respectable, in the highly competitive global launch market, consistency is everything. Customers can tolerate one failure as a statistical anomaly, but two consecutive failures of the same system raise red flags. Insurance premiums for future Indian launches are expected to jump 20-30%, directly threatening the cost advantage that made ISRO a global leader in the small-satellite launch market.
The financial blow is staggering—losses estimated between 200 to 250 million dollars. This includes not just the cost of manufacturing the rocket and the satellites themselves, but years of research and development, testing, and launch operations. While some international payloads carry insurance, insurance doesn’t restore lost years of work or the scientific data that would have been collected.
For NewSpace India Limited, ISRO’s commercial arm, there’s a massive backlog of delayed launches. Every delayed launch means delayed revenue, postponed missions, and frustrated customers who might start looking at competitors like SpaceX, Rocket Lab, or other providers.
Yet in the midst of disappointment, KID’s survival offers a powerful lesson. Sometimes the best discoveries come from unexpected situations. The capsule, built by a young Spanish startup with European Space Agency support, proved that smart engineering can turn disaster into opportunity. While the main mission failed, KID accomplished something arguably more valuable—it tested its technology in conditions far harsher than planned and succeeded brilliantly.
The loss of the other satellites represents genuine setbacks. International partners like Spain, Thailand, Brazil, the United Kingdom, and Nepal lost years of engineering work and investments. Indian startups lost not just satellites but potentially investor confidence at a critical time when India’s space sector was just opening to private players.
But KID’s three-minute transmission might just accelerate the future of reusable spacecraft for everyone. As Orbital Paradigm prepares their detailed report, their little capsule has already made history. The data KID collected is invaluable. Every second of those 190 seconds provided real-world measurements that cannot be replicated in any laboratory on Earth. Engineers can now see exactly how materials behave under actual re-entry conditions, how systems respond to real g-forces, and which designs work when theory meets reality. This information will improve heat shield designs, structural engineering, and system resilience for future spacecraft—potentially including those that will carry humans.
For India, the path forward requires transparency, thorough investigation, and commitment to quality over speed. India’s space economy was valued at 8.4 billion dollars in 2023 and is projected to reach 44 billion dollars by 2033. Achieving this ambitious growth requires absolute reliability. The 2020 space sector reforms opened India’s space to private players, encouraging startups to build satellites and even develop rockets. The government promised reliable, affordable access to space through ISRO’s proven systems like PSLV. After witnessing consecutive failures, maintaining that promise requires addressing these issues completely.
PSLV isn’t finished—it’s going through a difficult phase that, if handled correctly, will make it stronger. Every successful space program has stumbled before soaring higher. NASA lost astronauts but improved safety dramatically. SpaceX experienced multiple explosive failures but now dominates commercial spaceflight. Failures expose hidden weaknesses that success conceals and force improvements that make systems more robust.
The question is whether this failure becomes a catalyst to build a more robust, transparent space ecosystem where safety comes before schedules and quality comes before commercial pressures. What ISRO does next matters enormously—not just for India’s space program, but for the confidence of international partners, domestic startups, and the thousands of engineers and scientists who have dedicated their careers to Indian space exploration.
As investigations continue, one small capsule reminds us that even in disaster, there are survivors who tell stories worth hearing—stories of resilience, smart design, and the unexpected opportunities that arise when preparation meets crisis. KID didn’t just survive; it thrived in the worst possible circumstances, turning a mission failure into a technological triumph. That’s a lesson that extends far beyond space exploration—it’s about building systems that work even when everything goes wrong, and finding value even in moments of loss.
(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author’s own and do not reflect those of DNA)
(Girish Linganna is an award-winning science communicator and a Defence, Aerospace & Geopolitical Analyst. He is the Managing Director of ADD Engineering Components India Pvt. Ltd., a subsidiary of ADD Engineering GmbH, Germany)
